


melt with you

by princessjoey (fueledbyfemme)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Asshole!Steve, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Spanking, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, but also.... pretty cute ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23009797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fueledbyfemme/pseuds/princessjoey
Summary: Steve Harrington is a major fucking asshole. And he stole your diary.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Original Female Character, Steve Harrington/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	melt with you

“Hey,” Steve snapped, tapping his fingers on the pages of your notebook. You swallowed, unable to help but notice how nice his hands were. “I’m fucking talking to you. Can you hear me?”

You ignored him and tried to pull back your journal, remembering he was a huge asshole. Steve’s hand pressed down, tugging it back towards him. 

“Let go,” you said, grasping the notebook with your other hand. 

“I said I just wanna see your notes,” he said, pulling harder. 

“No!” You said. 

“It’s not a big deal! Why are you so uptight? It’s not even like you’d get in trouble for anything if you let me copy.” 

You said nothing, your heart sinking as Steve began to rifle through the battered pages. 

“Oh! This isn’t classwork.” Steve stood up, holding out his arm to keep you at bay as you rose to your feet too. He opened the notebook at random and cleared his throat. “Dear diary,” he began. “Today is so awful. I got my period early and bled all over my—Whoa! How embarrassing.”

“Stop it! That’s not yours! Give it back!” You said. Steve held the journal high above your head, out of reach, as you swiped fruitlessly at the air. 

“Mm, we really wouldn’t want this to fall in the wrong hands, would we?” he said, slamming it shut and tucking it into the inner pocket of his windbreaker. “I’ll keep it safe for you.” 

“Steve!” You said, grabbing at his jacket. He swatted your hands away easily, and you suddenly flinched as he began to grapple with you. Steve drew back suddenly. 

“I wouldn’t hit a girl,” he scoffed, cracks forming in his cool, cocky demeanor. He released your wrists and took a few steps back. He stared for a moment before turning on his heel. “Later,” he called as you stared after him helplessly, certain that it was only a number of hours before life as you knew it was over. You had to come up with a plan. 

***

You walked hurriedly down the suburban street, head down. There was a slight breeze in the cool October air, making the leaves rustle. You just had to duck in, get your diary back, and duck out. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t going to be a big deal. Nobody at school would know, you’d never bring it to school again, and hopefully Steve would just be convinced he had misplaced it.

What if it wasn’t easy to find? What if he had thrown it out at school? Worse yet, what if he had given it to Tommy or Claire? What if it was already getting passed around? What if he had taken it to the library and Xeroxed some of the worst parts? What if tomorrow you’d find pages taped to lockers? The possibilities were endless, and all of them were equally horrible and humiliating. Your pace quickened as you walked down the street to Steve’s house. 

His car was gone. You had guessed correctly—he was at the game with his friends. You crept over to the window and peered in—totally dark. Hesitantly, you tried the front door and found it locked. You walked up to the fence and through the gate, trying to appear casual so his neighbors wouldn’t suspect anything. You tried the back door next to find it unlocked and breathed a sigh of relief. At least this wasn’t going to get difficult. You took a moment to compose yourself before stepping inside, trying to stay calm despite your hands shaking at the possibility of getting caught. 

You entered Steve’s house and shut the door quietly behind you. An orange cat sat on the back of the sofa and stared expectantly, swiping its tail back and forth. 

“Meow,” he said. 

“Shh!” you replied anxiously. 

You hurried up the stairs and began to open doors until you discovered what was obviously Steve’s room—the school pennant hanging on the wall, the clothes thrown on the floor, the pomade on the dresser. 

You started with the desk, going one drawer at a time, and had very little luck sifting through the mess. You began to try his bedside table, you found yourself unable to miss the box of condoms in the top drawer. Suddenly, you heard a car in the driveway and flinched, a pit of dread formed in your stomach. You didn’t think he would be back for a few more hours at least. You felt panic begin to creep into your chest and your heart banged in your ears. You had to stay calm and come up with a plan: hide somewhere. He was probably just grabbing something, he’d leave again, and you could sneak out and everything would be fine. Everything would be fine. You took a shaky breath and tried under the bed, but you couldn’t fit. The closet was stuffed full of dirty laundry and sports equipment. In a panic, you ran for the door and attempted to make a dash down the hallway and towards the front door, only to come face-to-face with Steve coming up the stairs. 

He looked startled, but only for a moment before an amused and slightly predatory grin spread across his face. You had imagined Steve would be less threatening outside of school, when he didn’t have his popularity and reputation backing him up. Unfortunately, you were wrong. He looked just as tall, his arms looked just as thick, and his shoulders looked just as broad, pulled back with the same easy confidence he sported while swaggering around school. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he said, climbing the last few stairs and standing before you with his arms crossed over his chest. You didn’t say anything. “Seriously? Breaking and entering? Never would have guessed you could be such a troublemaker.” 

“I went in through the back. It was unlocked.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, whatever. Trespassing, burgling, robbery. Point is, you’ve been bad.”

“Robbery? You stole something from me,” You snapped, frustrated. 

“Aw, that little notebook? I didn’t know it was such a big deal.” 

You stared at him, furious. Your pulse was throbbing in your ears so hard you couldn’t think. 

He laughed. “You know, I read the whole thing already. It was gripping, to be honest. Well done!” He began to clap mockingly. 

Your stomach dropped. Steve grinned and put on a high pitched, mocking voice. “Steve Harrington is such a fucking asshole. I hate how hot he is,” he said. “He acts like such a prick. But I can’t help having a huge crush on him. He’s just so devastatingly good looking. I wish I was pretty so he wouldn’t be so mean to me.” 

“I wrote that months ago. That was private,” Your voice shook and your hands clenched into fists at your sides. 

He struck a cocky pose. “Tell me, what is it? What is it that makes me so devastatingly handsome? C’mon. Tell me. Is it the hair?”

“Shut up,” you said through gritted teeth. You knew it was a lame response, but this was the stuff of nightmares, and you weren’t really able to think straight. 

Steve took a few steps forward, coming to stand nearly toe-to-toe with you. “For the record, I think you’re very pretty. I’m ‘such a prick’ to you because you’re a know-it-all goody two shoes and you never let me copy your homework. And you’re probably a snitch, too.”

“I’m not a fucking snitch. And I’m leaving,” You said, your voice shaky. “Laugh at me tomorrow, whatever, I don’t care. I’m leaving.” 

You attempted to push past him, but he blocked your path. “Mm, not so fast.”

“Let me go,” you said, making another attempt at shoving past him, bracing your forearm against his chest. He grabbed you and pulled you closer, putting his hands around your waist. 

“Let me go!” you repeated, louder this time. 

“You think you can just creep around my room, snoop through my shit, and then get caught red handed? And I’ll just let you stroll away? Not how things work.” He backed you against a nearby wall, running his fingers through your hair roughly and pushing his muscled thigh between your legs. 

“No, no, no, I’m gonna deal with you how I see fit,” he breathed in your ear. 

His thick fingers traced the edge of your lips as he started to kiss your neck. You pressed them into a tight line as he attempted to slip them inside. “Open up.” 

“C’mon,” he said, tapping your cheek lightly. “Open up. Be a good girl.”

You shook Your head. 

“Huh,” he said, squeezing your jaw. “Seems like I’m going to have to teach you a little respect. You wanna do this the hard way, we’ll do this the hard way,” he said. A brief scuffle ensued before he grabbed you around the waist and slung you over his shoulder with surprising ease, even given his athletic background. Steve was really fucking strong—even stronger than he looked. 

“Put me down! Fucking put me down!” You yelled, thrashing and squirming as he carried you down the hall to his bedroom, clawing at the back of his shirt and kicking your legs. He reached up with his free hand and smacked your ass a handful of times with his big, calloused palm. Hard enough to really hurt, to leave handprints, to bruise. This stunned you into silence—you couldn’t believe he had just fucking spanked you. 

The door banged shut behind him and he dumped you rather unceremoniously on the bed, climbing on top of you and straddling you as you struggled and yelled, beating on his chest fruitlessly as he attempted to pin you down and hold you still. 

“Steve, you’re hurting me!”

“Then don’t fight,” he murmured into your ear. You struggled harder, until he finally managed to grab your wrists and force them apart, pinning them above your head with one hand. With the other, he pressed his palm over your mouth. “Shh. If you want to stop, then fine. Look me in the eyes and ask me to stop. We can talk about this like adults.” 

You stared at him, pupils blown and lips slightly parted. His hair looked more tousled than usual, and his eyes looked extra warm and brown. 

“It’s easy. Say it. ‘Please, Steve, I don’t want you to fuck me.”

You didn’t say anything. You were unable to say anything. 

“Even just one little word. ‘Stop,’ maybe, or ‘don’t.’ I’ll give you a ride home and everything.” 

“I don’t want you to stop,” you said, closing your eyes in embarrassment as you felt your cheeks burn. 

“Knew it,” he said, a smirk forming on his lips. His fingers began to fumble with the buttons on your shirt, pulling it off. You reached for the hem of Steve’s shirt and he grabbed your hand, stopping you. He reached behind your back and unhooked your bra with one hand—evidence that he wasn’t all talk when it came to his sexual conquests. He playfully snapped one of the straps against your shoulder before tearing it off and tossing it across the room. He gently cupped your breast with one of his rough hands and leaned down to kiss you, surprisingly soft. 

“You really are pretty,” he breathed before taking your bottom lip between his teeth and kissing your again, more roughly this time, while palming your chest and rubbing his calloused thumbs across your nipples until they hardened. 

He sat back up, grinding his hips down against yours, denim rubbing on denim. You felt your stomach jolt at the sensation. His cock was already hard and you could feel it as you rutted back up against him. You ran your hands over his chest and reached up again to fumble with the top buttons on the top of his stupid blue polo. His collar was popped. Asshole. 

“Don’t do that,” he murmured. “I’m gonna have to tie you down if you keep moving so fast. We’re gonna do this my way, remember?”

You ignored him, undoing the three buttons one by one and revealing a triangle of hair on his muscled chest. He let you. Then, the unmistakable sound of a metal belt buckle clinking made your heart skip a beat. He snapped it through the loops and pinned your wrists back above your head, winding the leather around them. You inhaled sharply—You hadn’t been expecting this. 

“Is that too tight? Is it hurting you?” he breathed into your ear, nibbling on it gently. 

“No,” You replied, equally as soft. 

Steve kissed you again, pushing his fingers up into your hair this time as he started kissing you roughly, nibbling on your lip occasionally in between his tongue probing your mouth rather curiously. The sensation of him pulling your hair just right combined with the friction of his hard cock rubbing against you made you moan into his mouth. 

Steve kissed his way along your jaw to your ear. “Did you like that?” he asked

“Yes,” you breathed in response. He continued grinding his hips down on yours, making you gasp as he sucked your neck and tugged his fingers with your hair. Somewhere in the back of your mind you were faintly aware he was leaving light bruising, but you didn’t really care. Right now it just felt so good. 

Steve finally, finally took off his shirt, revealing his strong arms and his broad shoulders. He kissed down your neck and chest, stopping for a moment to kiss your breasts before continuing down your stomach to your waistband. He unbuttoned your jeans and gave them a sharp tug. You kicked off your shoes as his fingertips dragged down your thighs, pulling off your jeans. He kissed all the way up your thigh, using teeth, until he reached your panties. He left them on, rubbing his nose against your clit. God, he had such a strong nose—and it worked on his face so well, you thought—even better than it was currently working between your thighs. Steve began to rub his fingers over the thin fabric in small circles, with a gentle touch that hit just right. He sat up and leaned in close, starting to kiss you again. 

“You’re soaked,” he commented. You blushed. Steve began to add more pressure as you squirmed and gasped, writhing under his expert touch and moaning as he continued to kiss you. His fingertips traced around your hipbones and he slipped them into the waistband of your panties, dragging those down your thighs too. He slipped one finger inside you, and then two, continuing to rub over your clit with his thumb. 

Steve began to kiss and nibble down your neck, chest, and stomach again, pausing to give your thighs a few kisses too before he started to go down on you: gently, carefully, slowly, gradually building speed and not pressure. Surprisingly dainty. It was too much. Your back arched and you moaned, feeling the leather of his belt keeping your wrists bound firmly together. You wished you could bury your fingers in his hazelnut hair, but instead you had to settle for scrabbling at what little of the sheets you could reach with your hands tied. You felt your thighs began to shake. 

“Steve, Steve, fuck, I—Steve!” you moaned as you came. 

He sat up. You could see traces of you around his mouth, visible only in the soft light from the setting sun creeping through the window. “I didn’t expect you to come so quickly,” he said. 

He helped you sit up against the headboard and climbed up onto his knees, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his cock out of his pants. Your eyes widened slightly and your lips parted. It was difficult to do this without the aid of your hands. 

Steve buried his fingers into your hair and helped guide your head up and down the length of his cock, pulling just how you liked it. He began to thrust his hips slightly, only barely pressing on the limits of how much of his length you could take in your mouth without gagging as you lapped at his slit. 

“F-fu—Stop, stop, I’m close” Steve said suddenly, pulling your head off of his dick. He started to pull his jeans off completely, tossing them over the side of the bed. “I’m sorry, you’re just really good,” he said, breathing heavily.

He reached into the top dresser drawer, into the box of condoms you had seen before, and used his teeth to open it, hands shaking with anticipation. He rolled it on and pushed his head against your entrance, hesitating only a second before pushing inside. You let out a small whine at the intrusion as he slid all the way in. 

“Okay?” he asked, head tilted slightly in concern. 

“Okay,” you breathed, and he started to thrust, trying to bite your neck but mostly just moaning in your ear. You let out a sudden gasp as he found your g-spot, and he started to thrust harder and faster. He reached down and started to rub your clit again, bringing you closer and closer to the edge a second time. 

“Steve,” you said, “I-I think I’m getting close.”

At this, Steve suddenly inhaled sharply and shuddered as he came gasping “Fuck.” 

His fingers broke their rhythm, slightly offbeat but not stopping until he finished you off as you came again with another moan and a shudder. Steve pulled out and rolled off of you. Both of you lay on the bed, gasping in stunned silence. Steve’s chest was heaving and his face was flushed red. 

“Oh, God,” he said. “Oh god that was good.” 

“Yeah. Yeah it was,” you replied, equally as breathless. Embarrassment at what had just transpired was starting to creep into your cheeks. Steve awkwardly wrapped a toned arm around your shoulders, fiddling with the end of your hair as you both sat in silence, eyes closed and heads pressed together, nearly dozing off. 

“Uh, do you-do you want a ride?” Steve finally said. He seemed a little flustered. 

“That would be cool,” you said hesitantly, standing up and starting to step into your clothes. Steve stood too, pulling his boxers and jeans back on. As you heard the jingling of his belt buckle, you felt your stomach lurch and your cheeks start to redden again, quickly grabbing the nearest article of clothing you saw—which happened to be Steve’s shirt. You held it out to him, looking away from his toned, muscled chest, gleaming with sweat in the fading light. 

“You know what, um, keep it,” he said. “Keep it. It’s cold out. And you know what else?” He opened a dresser drawer and rifled through it for a moment before pulling out a small black notebook and tossing it to you. 

“Thanks,” you said, the blush stubbornly refusing to fade from your cheeks as you pulled his shirt over your head. Your bra was nowhere to be seen, and you didn’t really make an effort to look—he could keep that in return.  
***

The drive home was mostly silent. The loudest thing in the car was Steve’s big, heavy hand on your thigh, louder even than the radio playing a slightly scratchy mixtape. Steve hummed along softly. You tried not to stare at him. . 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said awkwardly, unbuckling your seatbelt as Steve pulled into your driveway. 

“Hey wait,” Steve said as you began to open the car door. You hesitated. 

He cleared his throat, putting his usual cocky, bossy, asshole demeanor back on. “You better be at my place at eight o’clock next week, too,” he said, tapping on the steering wheel. “Or else,” he added playfully. 

“Okay,” you said, closing the car door. Steve waited until you were inside before leaving, radio rock blaring from his open windows as he sped around the corner. 

***

You sat under a tree, reading one of your textbooks, when you felt a paper ball bounce off your head. 

“Hey, loser!” 

You looked up to see Steve walking by. 

“Who gave you those?” he asked, pointing at the bite marks on your neck with a grin.


End file.
